Bazel, Samara and Paris appeared in the plaza of the first floor safe zone.

After defeating the Poisonous Brood Mother and giving Bazel's wounds some time to heal, they returned to get some well-deserved rest.

But first, they had to collect their earnings for the job they'd just completed.

Bounty jobs differed from the normal ones in one respect – that being you could keep doing a bounty as long as you wanted. The job wasn't considered "done" until you returned to the job office. So the three of them headed to the office to complete the job.

As soon as they walked inside, Bazel's interface made its "ding-dong" sound, informing him of a message.

《 Congratulations! You completed a job!

Rewards:

2,700 Credits, 》

"That's not bad for a day's work!" Samara said as she looked at her interface.

It was over twice what they made on the previous job guarding the sheep, so Bazel was happy.

They went back out to main street and Samara guided them to a restaurant that served something called hamburgers. The sign out front claimed the food was made with all beef however, not ham.

As soon as they walked inside, Bazel saw someone he knew. Bazel jogged over to the table where the man was sitting and waved.

"Hey, Jardan!"

The mustachioed man looked up and frowned at Bazel, but the frown quickly transformed into a smile as he stood up and put out his arms.

"Bazel? Bazel the Beggar!" He gave Bazel a quick hug and then held him at arms length to look him over, "I barely recognized you!"

Bazel pointed at his feet, "Yeah, look! I got shoes!"

"Well those are some fine shoes, Bazel!" He looked over at Paris and Samara, "Who are your friends?"

Bazel introduced everyone and told them about how Jardan had brought him and the other beggars to the dungeon. Of course, Bazel remembered Jardan for another reason – he was a man who showed kindness to a beggar.

"By the way," Bazel spoke to Jardan, "I didn't think you were too keen to come in here yourself. What happened?"

"Ah! Well," Jardan rubbed the back of his neck, "Thing is, I was tricked."

"Somebody tricked you?" Bazel frowned, "We'll, That's not nice!"

"I would agree," Jardan smiled, "However, this place is actually growing on me, so I've decided to stick around. They gave me the Artificer class, so I don't have to fight, I just build things."

"That's good," Bazel said, "still, I can't believe someone tricked you into coming here. Will you tell me about it?"

"Sure," Jardan took his seat and gestured for Bazel to join him, "It happened right after the last time I saw you. I went back to the city, and I was approached by a man…"

■■■

Jardan returned to the barracks owned by his merchant company and stabled the horses after unhitching them. It had been a long day – taking the beggars out to the dungeon – and he was looking forward to getting some rest.

As he headed inside to the barracks proper, a man in an overcoat approached him.

"Excuse me, merchant."

The man spoke in a low voice that was clearly an affect so that nobody could recognize his normal voice. The hood of his overcoat covered his face enough that he couldn't be identified.

"Name is Jardan," Jardan crossed his arms, "not Merchant."

"Apologies," the man bowed his head, "I meant no disrespect."

"So? What do you want?"

"I'm in need of a ride out to the dungeon."

"I just returned," Jardan used his thumb to point behind him at the stables, "I'm not leaving again until morning."

"That's fine," the man said, "But allow me to request a wagon to myself. Just you and me, no one else."

"That'll cost a bit more–"

"I can pay." The man reached Inside his coat and pulled out a bag, he handed it to Jardan, "Would this suffice?"

Jardan looked inside the bag to find it stuffed with gold crowns, "This is a year's worth of wages! No, two!"

"Please, sir!" The man held out his hands, "I would like this transaction to be discreet!"

Jardan narrowed his eyes at the man, "This isn't something illegal, is it?"

"Not illegal," The man said, "I just don't want anyone to know I'm going there."

Jardan knew he shouldn't involve himself. Even if no illegality was involved, it was still shady. But then there was the fact the man was willing to pay him so much for nothing more than a ride.

"Meet me back here at daybreak." Jardan said.

"Thank you, sir."

The next morning, Jardan awoke early to get the horses ready and hitch them to the wagon. He had just completed preparations as the sun was rising, and went to meet the man.

He arrived right on time, still wearing the overcoat to disguise himself. He only carried a small bag and a cutlass.

On the way out to the dungeon, Jardan tried to engage the man in conversation. He had no interest in discovering the man's identity, but the half-day journey was boring and there was only one person to talk to.

The man didn't want to talk though. He only sat in the back of the wagon and held his hood so it wouldn't get blown back by the wind. His attempts to hide himself only made Jardan more curious as to who he was.

Once they got close enough to clearly see the massive structure, Jardan called out to the man, "Hey, if you wanna see it, the view is great right now."

The man clambered up to the front of the wagon and looked across the plains to the dungeon. It stood on the flat landscape and dominated the horizon – a wreath of clouds hovered about three-fourths of the way to the top. The white marble and granite structure sparkled in the sunlight.

"Amazing!" The man said, forgetting to disguise his voice.

Just then, a wind swept across the plains and pushed the man's hood off. Jardan couldn't help but look at the face of his customer, and immediately wished he hadn't.

"Your highness!?"

Indeed, the man next to him was none other than the third prince of the Canneldorth kingdom – Risken Halamburd Gottel, first of his name. Jardan had never met the man before, but he'd seen him in parades and his likeness drawn on pamphlets. There was no mistaking the young man with fiery red hair for anyone else.

"Damn!" The prince frowned, "I truly wish you had not gazed upon my fair visage."

"Feeling is mutual!" Jardan pulled the reins and made the horses stop, "What are you doing, going to the dungeon?"

"Because my heart desires it!" The prince put his fists on his hips, "Such a magnificent place full of splendor, why would I not want to see and experience it all myself?"

"But it could be dangerous!" Jardan looked around, "Speaking of, shouldn't you have guards with you?"

"I do not have need of them! They would only hinder my progress!"

"You mean they would prevent you from coming?" Jardan threw up his hands, "Of course they would! I assume your father doesn't know?"

"Certainly not!" The prince shook his head, "If the king had knowledge of where I was, his heart would freeze in terror!"

"You know he'll find out eventually–"

Jardan stopped and his eyes went wide.

That's right! The King will find out where the prince went and he'll find out that I aided him! I'm dead!

"Do not fret, Master Jardan!" The prince stuck his nose in the air, "I will not speak to anyone of your involvement."

"That doesn't mean they won't find out!" Jardan glared at the prince, "The king will have my head for this! Especially if you were to get hurt or die in there, I would be held responsible!"

The prince jumped out of the wagon without another word and began walking towards the dungeon. Jardan stared after him for a moment before urging the horses forward. He pulled up beside the prince.

"Please stop, your highness!"

"I will not!" The prince kept walking, "I am resolved in this matter! And when a man resolves himself, he must see it through! Otherwise may he be called a man?"

"Talk as fancy as you want!" Jardan shouted, "I'm not gonna let you walk in there!"

"Or…" The prince grinned, "You could come with me!"

■■■

Jardan shrugged, "He actually made a good case, full as it was with fancy words. If I returned to the city, he wouldn't be there to vouch for me. If I ran, I would look guilty. I wasn't happy about it, but accompanying him was the best option."

"You don't seem so upset about it now." Paris pointed at him.

"Well, I have a non-combat class," Jardan said, "so it's not as if I'm in too much danger here. But also, I'm starting to like this place!"

"Still," Samara pinched her chin, "to think the prince would come here. Did he say why he wanted to?"

Jardan looked over at the door and pointed, "Ask him yourself."

Walking through the door was a man that Bazel thought must be close to his own age. He had wild red hair and bright blue eyes. He wore a colorful shirt with pictures of flowers on it and some jeans.

"There you are, Master Jardan!" He strutted to the table and struck a gallant pose, "Behold the finery I discovered in a tailor's shop! It is called an ah-lo-ha shirt!"

"It's quite fancy, your highness." Jardan's words lacked enthusiasm.

"I have instructed you prior to call me Risken and dispense with the honorifics!" He looked at the other people sitting at the table, "And who are these people? Acquaintances of yours?"

"This is Paris, Samara and Bazel the Beggar." He gestured to each one in turn.

"Oh?" Risken leaned forward and looked at Bazel closely, "You are arrayed splendidly for one who is called a beggar."

"Thanks! Samara got them for me," Bazel said, then put a finger in the hole in his shirt and frowned, "but I think I'll need a new shirt."

"Then I shall buy you an aloha shirt!"

"Really? That would be neat!"

"Bazel!" Samara leaned over, "You can't just talk casually to the prince like that!"

"Why not?" The question came from the prince in question, "I take no offense to anything he said. Besides, in here, I am only Risken."

"Well it's a pleasure to meet you Risken." Bazel put his hand out.

Risken shook the proffered hand, "And a pleasure to meet you, Master Bazel! We should be friends!"

"Okay!"

"Is this actually happening right now?" Samara asked with a horrified look on her face.

"Seems that way," Paris nodded.

Risken pointed to Bazel's shirt, "How was your garment damaged so?"

"We fought a giant three-headed snake!" Bazel said excitedly.

"Is that so? Please regale me with the story of how you vanquished such a foe."

"I used this!" Bazel made his gun appear from his inventory and held it up for Risken to inspect, "It's called the Xanadu Gun and it's really powerful!"

"Quite a fearsome weapon indeed!"

"I suppose," Bazel put it away and shrugged, "It takes a few seconds to be able to fire it though, and the snake bit me before I could kill it."

"Are you still afflicted by injury?" Risken asked with concern on his face, "If so, my class allows me to apply healing magic."

"I'm okay," Bazel said, "Samara used an ambrosia on me."

"Those are expensive, it would be better to have a healer with you." Risken said.

"Maybe you could come along on our next job?"

"Hmm…" Risken folded his arms and tapped his foot, "I am looking for a team to adventure with, my class is not suited for facing the dangers of the dungeon alone."

Samara jumped to her feet, "Wait!"

Everyone looked at her. She was clearly uncomfortable with the idea of Risken joining them. In fact, she looked like she would rather be anywhere else rather than in his company.

"Wouldn't it make more sense for you to go search out some of the knights?" She crossed her arms, "they do work for you."

"I am afraid you are mistaken, Lady Samara." Risken shook his head, "Those oversized tin cans ply their trade in the service of my father, not the lowly third prince. Furthermore, they have all forsaken their duties to the crown to chase their own fortunes inside the dungeon."

"But," Samara looked around the table for help, "You wouldn't want to be seen with commoners like us, would you?"

"Station is of no import to me!" Risken stretched out his hands and place them on Bazel and Jardan's shoulders, "Unlike other members of my bloodline who engage in such segregational snobbery, I find it a joy to associate with the lower class!"

Bazel thought Risken was a nice guy. He remembered Jardan as one who showed kindness to a beggar, but Jardan was just a common man. Here was a prince who not only showed kindness to Bazel, but wanted to be his friend!

"Please Samara?" Bazel asked, "I think Risken would be great to have along, and we need a third member anyway."

Samara was quiet for a few moments as she made eye contact with Bazel. Finally she sighed and looked away.

"Fine," she said, "he can tag along for now."